


Not Entirely Useless

by nhasablog



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 17:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: Jack keeps a dry paintbrush on him and Davey soon discovers why.





	Not Entirely Useless

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna delete my tumblr, so I'm posting a bunch of fics people have requested that never ended up here. I hope you like this! Feel free to unsubscribe to escape the email notifs lmao (but come back in, like, a week because ily)

Davey wasn’t sure why, but Jack had made it a habit of walking around with a dry paintbrush sticking up from his pocket when they weren’t working. Well, at least Davey  _ assumed  _ it was dry, since he was pretty positive Jack couldn’t be that stupid.

But why the brush was there in its dry uselessness was beyond him.

He tried asking once, but Jack merely grinned without saying a word, as if that would’ve satisfied Davey’s curiosity. But Davey was well aware that making Jack Kelly do something he didn’t want to was a difficult task, and he had, quite frankly, better things to do than to force out that answer.

But then he saw it in use, and had to retract his previous statement about it being useless. Maybe it wasn’t  _ entirely  _ useless.

It had started when Race had had one of those days where seemingly everything had gone wrong, and by the time they’d all met up at the end of the day he hadn’t been able to muster up even a small smile for the other newsies.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Jack, if ya ever move to Santa Fe I’m gon be right behind ya.”

“Don’t be silly,” Katherine had said, voicing what Davey had been feeling.

“I’m sick of this life.”

Jack had slung an arm over Race’s shoulders. “You’ll get over it.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Okay, who’s been teachin’ Race fancy words? Davey?”

Davey had raised his hands. “I’m innocent.”

“Sure you are. Anyway, lucky for you, Race, my buddy, I got just the solution for ya. You see this?” He’d pointed at the shaft of the brush in his pocket.

Race had eyed it suspiciously. “I see it. Ya ain’t gon do what ya did to Crutchie, are ya?”

Jack had just smiled, and that had been the moment Davey had seen exactly why he was keeping the brush on him. Apparently it worked great for wiping frowns off of people’s faces, even for only a moment.

Ever since that day Davey caught Jack running the tip of the brush over various body parts on his fellow newsies almost daily. He never did it on anyone who was genuinely angry or upset, of course, but the mere act always caught people’s attention enough to drag them out of whatever mindset they were in, at least for the moment.

It didn’t always tickle them, and Jack didn’t always aim to tickle, but it usually drew out a laugh just because it was so silly, almost bordering on annoying, and they always felt better afterwards. Or at least that was what Davey assumed, since Jack had never done it on him.

“I have to admit your method is interesting,” he told him one day when the two of them were walking through the city to find the others.

“You think?” Jack didn’t even pretend to not understand what method he was talking about. “I started doin’ it to Crutchie, but the others seem to need it too.”

“It’s pretty effective.”

Jack suddenly turned to him. “I ain’t ever done it to you.”

Davey, for some reason, felt his face heat up ever so slightly. “You haven’t.”

“Well, we gotta change that!” Jack cried, reaching for the brush. “Hold still.”

“That really isn’t necessary,” Davey replied, stopping in his tracks.

“It is, trust me.”

“No, come on.” Davey was already laughing as Jack tried to brush the, well, brush over his neck. “Jack, stop it.”

“But you need to laugh.”

“I already am!”

He was sure they looked ridiculous, running around a sidewalk with Jack chasing him with a brush, but he had to admit that it was fun. Even when Jack finally managed to trap him and turn him to a giggly mess.

Ever since that day a new tradition started, one that Davey was very much a part of. That brush touched his skin at least once a day, and he couldn’t help but notice that Jack did it more to him than anyone else. And maybe he liked it. Maybe he didn’t want him to stop focusing on him. Maybe.

The sun was setting, turning the New York streets into molten gold. Davey was walking on his own, unsure if he preferred it to be like that or not. It certainly was peaceful, but also lonesome. He hadn’t really spoken to a lot of newsies that day, and yet he felt too tired to seek them out.

Fortunately for him Jack found him on his own.

“Hey you,” he greeted, falling into stride with him easily. “Sold all ya papes, I see.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Aw.” Jack was obviously pleased, if his grin was anything to go by. “I ain’t gon spare you from the brush, if that’s what ya think.”

Davey could already feel the ghost tickles on his neck. “Oh, I know.”

“Partly because I’m pretty sure ya like it.”

Okay, so maybe blushing while denying something was the wrong way to go about it, but he couldn’t help it. “I do  _ not _ .”

“Liar,” Jack sang, brush already in hand. “Now hold still. We don’t want ya to fall over like yesterday.”

And if Davey had been forced to be absolutely honest he would’ve said that this was sometimes the best part of his day, even if some days Jack only ran the tip of the brush along his neck as he passed by and then never again until the next day. If he had to be honest he would say that this always left him in much higher spirits than before. If he had to be honest he would say that having this playful intimacy with Jack was more than he could’ve asked for.

But no one was forcing him to be honest, really, so he kept it to himself as he giggled his head off and tried to shove that godforsaken brush away.

“You like this,” Jack repeated, and maybe Davey could learn living with this, despite how much it made him blush. Maybe.

He was willing to give it a shot.


End file.
